Repression concrete - A police control in 2007

The number of arrests for 2006 will follow soon, but statistics give only a weak impression of the severity of the repression, of the undignified searches, of the police harassment. Here is a concrete example of repression - even without THC consumption! “We, four young adults, are sitting in a park talking to each other. We are not loud nor are we rioting. We see two policemen coming our way with a dog. But because we have done nothing forbidden we wait and remain seated. First the police checks our identity cards. With the male person a longer conversation follows, because he cannot identify himself.

Then they start checking the bags. We have to take everything out of the bags and put it on the bench. The cell phones are checked to see if they have been reported stolen. There is an empty Minigrip in my pocket. I am asked when I last consumed. But I explain to the policeman that I don't want to give any information on that. He threatens me that I should think it over again, because otherwise I will have to go to the police station. In my time to think it over, the bags of the others are searched. When the search of the others is over, he turns to me again. But I still don't want to give any information.

My colleague accompanies me. We have to walk all over the city with the policemen. I didn't feel so good. Somehow I was very nervous and my stomach was doing capers. When we arrived at the post, we could first wait. I was then fetched and was allowed/had to go into an office with the policeman. There was another policeman with us. But he said nothing. The first one started to question me. “When did you consume the last time?” Again and again this question came at me. And each time I said that I didn't want to say anything about it.

He said it was a minigrip with cannabis residue. If you were to chemically examine the grip, you might already find some residue. But by eye it is an empty grip. He went on to ask when I had last consumed. But I was still stubborn. I was shaking a lot and was afraid I would go black or vomit. At least I was given a glass of water. The policeman accused me of being under hard drugs because I was very pale and shaking. I explained to him that it was just the excitement. He explained to me that if I didn't tell him the last time I smoked pot, they would register me. I asked him what would happen if I gave him the information he wanted to hear now. I would be registered and get a report. This only strengthened my resolve to refuse to testify.

Finally he realized that I would not give him any information. On the protocol he wrote: “I make no statement to this!” I demanded that the exclamation mark be changed to a period. Because, after all, I didn't shout. “Now I have waited long enough, if you don't sign it, my colleague will sign it for you.” For better or worse, I then signed. But that was not the end of it. In the meantime, several more policemen had arrived, including one who was now taking charge.

I had to go into another room with a woman and had to undress upstairs. When she had looked under my arms and into my bra, I could get dressed again. But I had to take off my shoes, pants, socks and underwear to do so. I had to bend down and lift my feet. When I got dressed again she started talking to me. That I was probably not doing so well, that I must have problems and so on. Yes of course I have problems when I am at the police station on Saturday evening! She also started talking about other drugs again. I heard my colleague being heckled outside. When I was finally able to get out of that room, the matter was not yet over. My colleague, who only accompanied me voluntarily, also had to undress in front of the woman.

I was taken into another room. There was a policeman inside and three other policemen were standing outside the door. He wanted me to take a drug test (Drugwipe-5). But I did not want to. He threatened me that they would take me to the hospital and take blood and urine samples. “So, now we're going to do the test…” I kept denying. Then at some point I couldn't take it anymore and agreed. With this test was rubbed on my tongue and then I had to wait a few minutes. The test came back negative. The matter then went very quickly. My colleague and I could leave the post and were free people again.

In general, they were not very professional. When we were in the park, I didn't have to empty my pockets, they just forgot. And my cigarette pouch was not checked by anyone. They just messed that up. I don't think there will be any repercussions for me. I guess it's not worth it to go to even more trouble because of an empty grip? After all, the effort was already considerable: the drug test alone costs the state 100 francs. If it had been positive, I would have had to pay for it. And then there are all those policemen who spent half an eternity dealing with us, they probably don't have a small hourly wage either. And not to mention the dog…”